So, again, continuing where I left off with the last post: So, after publishing the last post, I thought about my conversation with the “second opinion” or “third party evaluation.” If this psychiatrist was actually evaluating me as someone who isn’t part of the ward, why would this psychiatrist give me an already prepared, custom, discharge requirements list. This “second opinion” should not even include any suggestions on how I should go about my stay, and should only have concern with the diagnosis. So, intuitively, I already felt like this was sketchy, but now with some reasoning, I can demonstrate that it was sketchy. What’s more, I never heard what his conclusion of the diagnosis was; it didn’t seem like the psychiatrist was speaking with me to determine a diagnosis.
So that psychiatrist and I speak for about an hour and the conversation ends because it was time for lunch. As I’m eating lunch, one of the nurses asks me how my lunch was and asks me if I wanted to take my prescribed medication. In hindsight, it kind of feels like they were trying to persuade me into taking the medication with that discussion with the psychiatrist and then a follow up offer of medication; I hope this is not the case. I tell the nurse “no” and explain how, even though it’s “prescribed” medication, it’s now just a game that I have to play, because it’s a misdiagnosis. So this was Day #3, and since that day, during my stay, I was offered medication everyday, two times a day, except for the last day.
Sometime after lunch, a nurse sits down with me to talk. I think this was my scheduled first one-to-one of the day. According to my notes, it was a nice brief talk; though there were times where I would speak with my scheduled one-to-one for a half an hour or more. Anyway, so the nurse asked me if I had any friends I could call. I tell the nurse “no,” that most, if not every friend I had, turned on me, and even started backstabbing. I tell the nurse that I was blind, and I didn’t really know what happened to my mother, and I didn’t know that it was very well know; I thought only a small group of people knew. So even when my friends and I were getting along, there were times when they were making fun of my mother being beat and raped, and I had no idea what they were talking about. I would even laugh sometimes, but we weren’t laughing at the same thing. I told the nurse that my high school counselor would call my group of friends “low-lees” and I thought it was just another word for “slackers.” I also mentioned how I didn’t realized this until years later, even after my mother’s death, and had I known what my friends were saying, I would have never invited them to my mother’s funeral. I explained to the nurse that even before I realized what they were actually referring to, that I didn’t really like spending too much time with them because I was always trying to stay busy and productive, and I didn’t enjoy wasting time, unless it was something I really enjoyed. In addition to this, my group of friends were backstabbing and contributing to the glass lighting, talking behind my back and stuff. So I started to not really value the friendship, and I would just spend time with them when I was bored, which I started to regret, every single time. So then I got a cat to keep me company, but now it’s not an issue for me to be alone, it’s what I prefer and enjoy, and I know some people can’t stand being alone. Don’t get me wrong, if I ever do find a healthy trusting relationship with someone, I’d be better with it than without, but until then, being alone is best for me. So now that I’m analyzing this stay at the psych ward, I’m starting to pick up on things I didn’t before. I figured this nurse asked me about whether I had friends or not probably because I hadn’t reached out to anyone yet and I wasn’t authorizing communication between the medical team and my family. In hindsight, I think this nurse was asking me because the network of people who stalk me, which includes my family and friends, told the nurse to ask me about my friends to try to remind me of a message that a former friend, who I told not contact me anymore, sent me. The message was of a video called What It’s Really Like Having Schizophrenia… hater.
So, I didn’t want to contact anybody. However, I also wanted more information regarding the legal authority the hospital had to keep me there. The psychiatrist wasn’t too helpful, we talked about the law a little bit, but he wasn’t specific and I was hoping they would have something in writing. So not having this missing information, I decided to call one of my sisters. My relationship with this sister is somewhat fake, like I know she’s involved with the network of people who stalk me; but whatever, I decided to continue to play with the fakeness to get information. I was actually speaking with her more often recently, before going to the hospital; we were talking about clothes because she wanted to buy me something. Before the phone call, I figured she would find this kind of funny. So I ask to call my sister, and they place the phone call for me. My sister answers and I tell her I’m in a psych ward and I start laughing. She’s not laughing. I repeat myself and start laughing again. She’s still not laughing. She asks about what happened, and I tell her that I thought she was going to find this funny. She tells me that it’s kind of funny, but kind of scary at the same time. I tell her the story, read her my statement, and explain to her how bad and illegal this situation is. I ask her to do some research on the legal authority the hospital has to keep me there. I think she asked me if she should search around for a lawyer, and I say sure. We talked about other stuff, and then end the phone call. During the phone call I could tell she was being kind of insincere. At the end of the phone call, I sat down to think about our conversation, and I concluded that she already knew that I was there at the psych ward. How did she find out? When did she find out? It was planned… did she know about the plan in advance, or did she find out about the plan after the fact? With time, I would figure most of everything out, but I knew that if I was stressing out people at the hospital with terms like “false imprisonment,” then the people who planned this and carried out the plan were definitely stressing out as well.
So, when I was young, someone I know would always say “Oh yeah! … Yeah!” He would repeat this nonstop. And he would say it as if, let’s say Person 1 was saying “Oh yeah!” and Person 2 was replying “Yeah!” He was really funny. I don’t know where he got this from, but I think he got this from The Three Stooges. For a while, I was saying this, aloud, nonstop, to try to convey to the people around me how immature the vicious cycle of retaliation is. So… what was the reason for this spiteful plan to lock me up in a psych ward? Part of it, I think, is retaliation to what I’m writing to my blog. Like I’ve mentioned before, I don’t really want to write about the cyberstalking and all the harassment I’m dealing with, but writing about this has been very helpful. Also, how else was I ever going to prove the cyberstalking? So as long as I continue to be cyberstalked and harassed, I will continue to write about it. One of the things I mentioned in a blog post is that people seem to want to place me in an imaginary jail or whatever, and I wrote, if you want to see me in jail, take me to court, otherwise, leave me alone. So when I was there in the psych ward, I kind of sensed this “oh yeah! Look at who’s in jail now!” and “Oh yeah! You want to write about cyberstalking and harassment to your blog. Look at who doesn’t have access to the Internet now!” Oh, yeah, another thing I mentioned on my blog is despite the fact that I dealt with hazing during boot camp, I left with my head held high, because I didn’t do anything morally wrong and I see it as hits I have to take, to take on this abuse. “Oh yeah!” … Jesus!
To be continued…